"Rob," said Muckle John, "this is a nice business, for here we are with the wild Cameron country and Arkaig safely behind us, and within a few steps of Glengarry's land, for which we have been struggling for the last four hours and more." To the south-east of them was Glen-Pean and Glen-Kingie stretching out in solitude. But between them and comparative safety lay the sleeping English tents, and nearing them at every moment were the Camerons and Macaulay. Muckle John shook his head gloomily. "We canna go back, Rob, and we canna go forward--at least no until nightfall, and then we're like to meet with a bullet." He lay upon the ground, and chewed a piece of grass, eyeing the English tents with a frown. "We're as good as lost," said Rob hopelessly. "Man Rob," replied Muckle John grimly, "ye possess a rare discernment." With a sigh Rob let him be, and took to thinking about his own desperate affairs. Twice during the past twelve hours he had been on the point of destroying the paper and each time he was thankful that he had waited. But now they were as good as lost. Captured either by the English or by Macaulay they were doomed for a quick death, and the dispatch would prove a great piece of treasure-trove for either--the map that would show the way to Prince Charlie's gold, with which he could buy ten thousand men to his standard. At least that was how Rob looked at it, and some would say there was some truth in what he believed. It was the thought of the money falling into such hands that determined him to destroy the map. He stole a glance at Muckle John, but his eyes were fixed steadily on vacancy. Then slipping away, he leaned with his back against a rock, and drew the envelope cautiously from the side of his brogue, where he had concealed it. It was sealed and addressed to the Prince. Rob had hardly time to glance at it, however, before a warning call from Muckle John made him spring to his feet, the paper still in his hand. "See, Rob," cried he, but eyeing the piece of paper keenly, "here comes Macaulay from the west, so we must decide on the instant. Once and for the last time, hae ye onything that I can tak' charge of, for it's you they'll search, no me." Rob felt himself weakening, but again his promise to Cameron withheld him. "No," he cried, and made as though to tear the paper in two. "You doited fool!" screamed Muckle John, rushing at his hands. Rob with quick alarm leaped aside, and the big man tripped and floundered along the ground. What was he to do? But of a sudden he stood still. Why should he doubt Muckle John? "I've taken your advice," he said, and showed the piece of paper in his hand. "It's only what seems reasonable," replied Muckle John. "Now put it by, for it's neck or nothing for us, Rob." "Have you a plan?" asked the boy, with his eyes on the white tents and his heart in a sad state of fright. "A sort of a plan," he replied, and started at a run rewards the English.